


Floral Arrangement

by NerdyAdjacent



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: AU, First Date, Flower Shops, Fluff, I'm not used to writing fluff, I'm sorry if this sucks, Lovey-Dovey, M/M, M/M Sex, Mystery, POV First Person, Seth is a florist, dean is a funeral director, funeral homes, tags to be added as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyAdjacent/pseuds/NerdyAdjacent
Summary: Owning a flower shop should be a beautiful job, right? You'd think it would be like something out of a Disney movie where the birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and the entire city waves and smiles and offers you bread. That has not been my experience. Except for the bread part...which was weird.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demonjeans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonjeans/gifts).



> I lost a bet from Survivor Series. Here be the result. I don't usually write fluff, but here's my attempt at it!
> 
> *aaaaaaaaand I'm expanding*

Owning a flower shop should be a beautiful job, right? You'd think it would be like something out of a Disney movie where the birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and the entire city waves and smiles and offers you bread. That has not been my experience. Except for the bread part...which was weird.

I moved to this town in hopes to start over. It's a lot smaller than I'm used to, but that's what drew me to it in the first place. I'm tired of big cities where there's no connection to anyone else and being a faceless clone in the crowd was par for the course. But here? Here is where I could forget that hustle and bustle and finally open my little flower shop. Quaint. That's how I'd describe it. 

Quaint, but perfect. 

Or at least it should have been. 

It started innocently enough, a woman coming in and ordering flowers for her poor husband's funeral. I would expect a fair dose of these sort of orders. I mean, people die and their loved ones want the best for them, I understand that. My heart broke a little at her tears when I offered my condolences and threw in a bouquet for free. She thanked me profusely and left. 

Then the next one showed up a few days later. And another a day or so after that. So many funerals within the span of a week was surprising, but I did my best to fill their orders and give them what little comfort I could. I was new here, so I'm not sure my “I'm sorry for your loss” really had the impact I would want, but they smiled politely and went on their way. 

This went on for a few months before I finally figured out why. And that _why_ came in the form of a man. 

It was a regular Tuesday morning and I was working on filling my orders for that Saturday's funerals; three in total. The little bell above the door jingled, but I was in the middle of writing an order receipt and didn't look up right away, rather calling to the customer with a quick “I'll be right with you.”

“Take your time.” 

It was a surprisingly raspy voice, and also young sounding, so I looked up. I noticed the leather jacket first for some reason because it seemed out of place in this town where everyone seemed to be more of the polo shirts and khakis sort of crowd. His jeans fit him nicely, accentuating his small waist, even if they were frayed at the bottom. His bronze colored hair was unkempt, falling into eyes that were a shocking shade of blue. I swallowed hard at the sight of him looking at me with a little smirk that spoke of mischief and trouble. 

I had to clear my throat to keep my composure. “What can I help you with?”

“You're new here, right?” He said, that raspy voice making my face go hot. “About few months or so?”

I nodded at him, though a bit unsure about what he was getting at. Then he held his hand out to me. “My name is Dean.”

I shook it once, hoping my hands weren't all that clammy. “Seth.”

Then he grinned at me, not even trying to hide the way his eyes slid up and down my face and chest. Was he checking me out? It honestly caught me off guard and I again had to clear my throat to get him to look me in the eye. 

“I guess my place is keeping your place busy, huh?.” He said, that grin widening.

“Excuse me?”

“I own the funeral home on the corner.”

“So you're the reason all these people keep coming in here?” I was getting angry, not really sure why, but my flower shop was supposed to be a happy place, but all I've been doing was filling sad funeral orders. “You fucker!”

The face he gave me would have been adorable if I wasn't so angry; eyebrows knitted together, lips set in a thin line, obvious confusion. “Why are you so mad? It's not like I'm murdering people to keep your business afloat. I just wanted to come in and thank you.”

“Thank me?!” I snapped at him, still not quite sure why I was so mad. But my arms crossed over my chest and I waited for his answer.

“Yes, thank you.” He answered with a calm little nod that I found cuter than it should be. “Those people are going through a hard time and anything that will make them a little more reassured is ok in my book. The last flower guy used to overcharge for shitty work. Not you. People rave about your work. I've been recommending you for two weeks now. So I want to thank you for being understanding and helpful.”

Well, how was I supposed to stay mad at him after that? My hands dropped away from my chest to play with the hem of my apron, just for something to do so I didn't have to look him in the eye for a second. “I'm sorry.” I said, avoiding his eyes. “I wasn't really expecting that answer…”

“Why?” He chuckles. “Because now you can't hate me?”

“Let me make it up to you.” I said without really thinking. “Can I take you out for dinner or something? As an apology?”

“No.” he said and my heart sank a bit. I was oddly disappointed until that grin spread a little wider. “I don't need an apology, but a date would be nice.”

I was nervous as hell that night closing up shop, even going so far as to consider bailing. But I'd asked him. How would it look if I were to stand him up? I let him pick the place because, well, I was still fairly new here and he offered. We were going to meet at this little pizza joint a few blocks away, an easy walk from both our businesses. I was a little surprised to find him waiting outside my shop at closing, still in that leather jacket and still looking ludicrously handsome in it. 

He beamed a smile at me when I slid the lock into place. “You look amazing.”

“I look like hell.” I said, letting him lead me with a small touch to the small of my back that I wasn't exactly expecting and that left a tingling sensation where we touched. “I thought I'd have a bit more time to get ready.”

The last order had come in late and I had to scramble to finish it, leaving only a few minutes to adjust my hair in its bun and put on some deodorant. It wasn't like I was expecting to get laid tonight or anything. 

He simply smiled at me. “You look great! And you smell good.”

“Old spice.”

“Roses.”

I felt my face flush hot. Damn him and his beautiful eyes for looking at me like that. I had to clear my throat to get back on track. “Thanks. You also look-”

“Like James Dean? I know.” He interrupted with a smile. 

“No, like hell.” I said, grinning. Thankfully he could take a joke and laughed loudly. 

We walked and talked about small things like favorite food and color until we got to the pizza place, a little joint situated in a strip mall and that couldn't be any bigger than my apartment. I must have looked skeptical because he chuckled. “It might not look like much, but the food is amazing. Best pizza in town. Roman will take care of us, he's a friend.”

He held the door for me and led me to a booth in the back. Not that there was much by way of choices, the place really only consisting of two tables and the booth, so I slid in and he slid across from me. 

The owner, Roman, a large man with long black hair he had wrapped in a tight bun at the nape of his neck, came over almost immediately with a huge smile and held his hand out to Dean. “Ambrose! How you doing, buddy?”

Dean shook his hand happily. “Good, man! Good to see yah!”

Then Roman's attention slid to me and I felt surprisingly small under his gaze, even if he was smiling at me. “You must be Seth. Dean told me about you.”

“How?” I asked, because I had only met him three hours ago. 

“Doesn't matter.” Dean interjected and Roman chuckled and handed us menus. We ordered and sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes while Roman shuffled back into the kitchen with a sly grin on his face. 

“So,” Dean began, folding his hands on the table. “Why a flower shop?”

“Why a funeral home?”

“I asked you first.”

I found myself grinning. “Well, I was tired of the hustle and bustle of the big city. I needed to get away and do something that brought a little beauty into the world. Flowers make people happy.”

Dean grinned at me and sat back in his seat. “Thank they do. And what did you do before becoming a florist?”

“I was an accountant, believe it or not.”

Dean pulled a face that made my cheeks heat up. “Math? No thank you.”

“That's why I left.”

Our food came fairly quickly and Dean thanked Roman who winked at him. I had to admit, that first bite of pizza was incredible. Dean was right, it was very good; cheesy and garlicky with just the right amount of sauce. Delicious. 

Dean was halfway through his first slice when I asked him why he chose a funeral home in this little town. He seemed smart, charismatic, and easily able to make friends. He could do anything he wanted, but chose this and I wondered why.

“I inherited it.” He said through a mouth of food. “Some distant uncle left it to me and I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I took over.”

“What do you mean you didn't have anywhere else to go?” He smiled sadly and I immediately regretted asking. “I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that.”

He waved me off, but that sad smile was still there. I decided right then and there that I hated that look. “No, it's ok.” He took another bite of pizza and swallowed before going further. “I used to think of myself as a nomad, other people might call it being homeless. To be honest, I'm not sure how the lawyers found me, but one day I'm panhandling on the expressway and the next i'm owning a business. It's not so bad. I don't deal with embalming or anything, I hired a mortician for that. But, I've always been good with people, so that's what I focus on.”

I wasn't exactly sure what to say to that. All I could think to do was to reach out my hand to his and squeeze as reassuringly as I could. He smiled when he looked down at our hands and I could swear I could see a red flush to his skin in the moody ambiance of the restaurant. 

We didn't talk about any more heavy things that night, but I could feel my respect and admiration for the man chatting away endlessly about wrestling growing. He must have lived a hard life and pulled through to be where he is now. Not an easy feat. 

When the bill came, he insisted on paying even though I'm the one who asked him to dinner. I would fight him on it, but the look in his eyes told me it would be a losing battle. He thanked Roman and we left, shoulder to shoulder as we walked back towards my little flower shop where my apartment was situated above. 

“I had a really nice time with you.” He said when we reached my front door. “It's hard to find cool people sometimes.”

I nodded, not exactly sure where this was going but knew I didn't exactly want this date to end. “Do you wanna come up for coffee or something?” I asked and immediately felt cliche and stupid. 

“Nah, I should be getting back.” He answered and I felt overwhelmingly disappointed. Was it something I said? 

“Oh.”

“Don't take that the wrong way.” He clarified. “I have an early funeral scheduled and I need to set up. I'm pretty sure the flowers will be arriving by 8am.” 

He was grinning when I looked up at him. He was right, I was scheduled to deliver the floral arrangements early that next morning. His smile was what made me smile back. He just had that air about him, a contagious sort of personality. “Then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning.” He nodded. Before I could get to far, I felt his hand reach up to tuck some of my hair behind my ear, his palm resting against my jaw. I held my breath when he leaned in close and waited, ready when his lips pressed to mine softly. It was a quick kiss, but one that held a sort of promise of things to come. 

When he pulled away, that grin was still plastered on his face even though my entire body felt like it had just been turned to jello. Maybe that's why he was grinning. 

“Thanks for the date, Seth.” He said and started walking down towards the funeral home on the corner.

“But you paid.” I called after him.

“You get the next one.” He said back and began whistling with a little spring in his step while he walked. 

And now I was grinning like an idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

To say things had been going great with dean was probably the understatement to end all understatements. They were magical, stupendous, perfect, any other word you could think of to describe the absolutely wonderful man who'd walked into my silly little flower shop two months ago. Since then, one date graduated to two, then a third, and by the fourth I found myself on my back on the floor of my still unpacked apartment, a box of pizza open on the coffee table, and Dean over me, kissing my lips and neck while he pressed in, like I was the only person in the world to him at that very moment. It was nice to be seen that way. 

After that, we were pretty inseparable. What I really loved about him was how much he didn't care what other people thought about him, about us. I'd heard about the small town mentality with regards to same sex couples, and honestly expected more opposition when he held my hand and kissed my knuckles while we walked down the street. Maybe it was his confidence, his swagger, his whole self that made me feel that warm and tingly sensation in my chest. 

“You okay?” He asked me, sitting in the desk chair of my office like he had every day on his lunch break since we started dating. The little radio in the corner was playing some soft tune to help the day move a little smoother, though with Dean here, nothing would get done unless I made a concerted effort to fend him off. Which I usually didn't. 

He liked watching me work and I liked feeling his eyes move over me when I did. I may or may not have bent down more than necessary in front of him, but if the way he cursed under his breath when I did was any indication, he really didn't mind it. As it were, right now he was watching me weave some extra baby's breath into a bouquet set for a bride that coming Saturday, my first wedding, with that confident little smirk on his face that got me every time. 

“Yeah, I'm good.” I answered him, and I was. I was very good. He reached out to tug the string of my apron and pull me back until he could situate me in his lap. I loved when he did that, especially when his hand gently caressed my arm in a way that wasn't exactly leud, but held that promise for things to come later. “Dean, I have to finish this.”

“I know.” He said and laid his head against my back while his arms wrapped around my waist, squeezing a warm hug while he breathed in. “You smell like lilies today.”

“That would be the wedding flowers.” I pointed out.

“Aren't they the funeral flower?”

“That's what the bride asked for.” I said, turning so I could kiss him on the forehead. That's become my little way of telling him I need to get back to work and he let me get up. “Who am I to tell a bride to not have her favorite flower in her bouquet.”

“Fair enough.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the radio shifting from some soft ballad to a more upbeat pop tune from some teeny-bopper I did not recognize. Dean just sat in my chair with his hands behind his head, watching me put the finishing touches on the bouquets. When I'd finished, I decided that if he was going to hang out here he might as well be useful. “Could you please go put these in the fridge in the back?”

And there was that mischievous little smirk again. “What's in it for me?”

“I'll show you later.” I said and winked at him. I loved when I could make his swallow like that. He did take the box of flowers and disappeared into the back storage while I busied myself in cleaning up. Maybe I could talk him into taking me to Roman's for lunch. 

_This is your 12 o’clock news break. Local authorities are still baffled at the apparent state of the body found by the side of the road last Tuesday._

My ears perked up. I'd noticed these little news updates coming through more frequently since I moved here. Not that I'm morbid or anything, but I did find the story of the mysterious killer extremely interesting. You don't hear too much about serial killers these days. 

_The 32 year old victim has been identified as -_

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around my waist and spun me around before lips latched themselves onto mine. I melted right into it. He was a very good kisser. “You wanna go grab some food?”

Once I caught my breath, I smiled at him. “I'm starving. Roman's?”

“Sometimes I regret bringing you there.” He chuckled and pulled me against him tighter. “I think you like him better then me.”

“Nah. Just his food. Besides, Roman kinda gives me the creeps.”

He furrowed his brow at me. “Really? Roman? Dude wouldn't hurt a fly.”

I shrugged, but it was true. I loved Roman's food and the atmosphere and he was Dean's good friend, but something about his presence seemed to just rub me the wrong way. I couldn't put my finger on it and it was probably just me overreacting to nonsense. 

“Maybe he's that killer that's been running around.” I joked and Dean laughed. 

“You're ridiculous.” He chuckled and waited until I turned the radio off to grab his jacket. 

Lunch was pretty uneventful, and the more I thought about it, Roman wasn't that bad a guy. He just had a way of looking at you that made you feel small, a unique sort of presence if there ever was one. Maybe that's how his business's stayed afloat; he just had a way about dealing with people that was both intimidating and friendly at the same time. At any rate, it was stupid for me to even bring that up to Dean because now, every time Roman came over to our table, Dean would make some sort of face at me that he found utterly amusing. I did not. 

“Would you stop doing that?” I snapped at him when Roman went back into the kitchen for the third time. 

There was that innocent smirk. “Doing what?”

“You know what.”

He chuckled and took a bite of his hoagie, chewing for a second before speaking around his mouth full of food. “C’mon, you can't tell me something like that and expect me not to find it funny.”

I sat back in the booth and crossed my arms over my chest. I was being petulant, I knew that, but now I was annoyed. I could tell by the way his face shifted from amused to apologetic that I had succeeded. 

“I'm sorry.” He offered and reached his hand out. Though I was tempted to just let it sit there on the table as punishment for making fun of me, I gave in when sparkling blue eyes didn't waver and took his hand. “I'll stop.”

“You better.” I said, trying to stay mad. It I could feel the little smile begin to lift the corner of my mouth. He was too good at making me unable to stay mad at him for long. 

He gave my hand one last squeeze and dug back into eating his lunch. 

“I have a question for you.” I said, my stomach a little nervous to ask what I was about to. 

“Shoot.” He mumbled through his food again. 

I took a breath. “A friend of mine is getting married and I offered to do her flowers as a wedding present. It's back in the city and I could use some help transporting everything...and, maybe, a date.”

A slow grin spread across his face and I almost regretted asking. I had received the invitation a few weeks ago but hadn't returned it yet with whether or not I had a plus one. I wasn't sure where dean and I were heading, so I was putting off asking. As the return deadline was coming up, it was now or never. For a split second, I thought he might say no. 

“Did you just ask me to be your plus one?”

“Maybe?”

“I've never been someone's plus one before.” He said. 

“No one's ever asked you to a wedding?”

“Nah.” He wiped him mouth with his napkin and stashed it in the empty sandwich basket. “Wasn't really the dating type. Kind of a loaner, you know?”

“Oh, come on, what about proms or dances?”

“Never went.”

“Why?”

“Well, I dropped out of school when I saw 17, so there wasn't much reason to go.”

Aaaaaaaaand now I felt like a jerk. “I'm...i’m sorry.”

“Relax.” He chuckled. “I'll be your plus one. It'll be fun. Maybe we'll get drunk and have coat room sex. I can knock that one off my bucket list.”

“Now who's ridiculous.”


	3. Chapter 3

I worked extremely hard to create the perfect floral arrangements for this wedding. The planning and discussions between myself and my good friend Becky seemed to go off without a hitch. Granted, I knew exactly what she would ask for, we'd been friends for a long time after all. I wasn't exactly sure how to incorporate steampunk into flowers, but she would just tell me in that Irish accent of hers “Throw some gears and some lace on them and were good.” 

So that's what I did. 

I think they came out pretty awesome.

I told Dean to meet me at the shop early, needing help loading my shitty truck with all the flowers to get them to the church before the ceremony. He arrived right on time and I almost hated him for how good he looked. I don't know where he got the sleek black suit, but there he was, all sharp lines that dripped sex, grinning at me with those twinkling blue eyes that had my knees weak and my breath hitching in my throat.

“Oh, fuck me.” I groaned out. 

“I mean, if that's what you want.” He replied and winked at me in a way that had me seriously considering it. 

“That's not even fair! Look at you!”

He grinned and that did nothing but made me want to take him inside and destroy all the crisp lines of that suit he was wearing. I bet it would pretty spectacular on my bedroom floor. But, I didn't. Shame, really. 

I was already running behind, and with Dean's help we were able to get on the road not too late. I drove, he dozed in the front seat. The radio was on low as I sped down the highway toward the city, just enjoying the view and the small snoring sounds coming from my passenger. It wasn't a long drive, but traffic was a killer. If we keep getting stuck, Becky would have my ass for being late. Especially on her wedding day. 

Dean woke up by the second hour, mumbling “are we there yet?”

I laughed at how innocent he sounded. “Were about 45 minutes away, but this traffic is terrible. Becky is going to kill me.”

“Nah.” He says and sits up a little straighter in his seat. “So many other things can kill you more effectively than a pissed off bride.”

That was a strange thing to say. It must have shown on my face because when I look at him, he smirks at me and I can tell he's just pulling my leg. “Oh, shut up.”

He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Gladly. I have something else I'd like to occupy my mouth with.”

Before my brain could even begin to formulate a reaction, nimble fingers are toying with the fly of my trousers. “Woah! Wait! I'm driving!”

“So what?” He laughs and gets his hand on me, forcing me to gasp and grip the steering wheel like my life depended on it. “We’re barely moving. Besides, I'm bored.”

“You were sleeping through most of the trip.” I pointed out only to groan when he began moving his hand up and down. “I swear to god, if I mess up my outfit with jizz…”

“You're such a drama queen.” 

And that was that apparently because he leaned forward into my lap and took me into his mouth. I was so startled that I not only bucked up into his throat, but also pressed my foot down onto the gas. Thankfully I managed to hit the break before I rear-ended the person in front of me. God, how would that look on a police report? _I'm sorry, officer. I was getting road head and my foot slipped._ I wonder how many points that would be on my license?

Didn't matter at this point because Dean was busy sucking my brains out through my dick, his head bobbing in my lap like he had something to prove, and he was going to prove it goddammit! Space aliens could abduct me at this very moment and I wouldn't even care with the way his tongue swirled around the head. “Fuck, Dean…”

I didn't start getting nervous until I saw flashing red and blue lights up ahead of us blocking two lanes of the highway. My hand tangled in his hair to hold him there as we passed them and I heard the distinct sound of chuckling coming from my lap. Then he took me _down_ , my dick hitting the back of his throat. I was getting close, that familiar tightness beginning to pool in my stomach with every long, exaggerated suck. “Shit, Dean. I'm gonna cum.” 

He only gave me a thumbs up. Cocky bastard. 

He took me down deep again and that was it. I held his head down as I came deep into his throat. He swallowed dutifully and came up with a smug, self satisfied smirk on his face. “See? No mess made.” 

I was panting so hard I barely noticed when he helped me back into my pants and zipped me up, giving my thigh a little pat. Fucker hadn't even put one wrinkle in his perfect suit.

I'd fix that. 

I reached over and tried to get at his fly but he batted my hand away. “C’mon, Dean. Let me return the favor.”

“Later.” He says with the promise of mischief that has my skin tingling again. “Besides, I'd rather something more than a handy on the highway.”

“But...you just…

He smirks at me. “I know what I did.”

“You just wait until this wedding is over.” I growled because I'd gladly return the favor with interest. 

Another one of those smirks and I knew he would definitely be getting coat room sex like he wanted. 

We made it to the church with about ten minutes to spare. The wedding planner, a small woman with pink hair named Sasha, or so it said on her monogrammed blazer, met is with a scowl and three employees to empty the truck. “You're late!”

“I know, traffic was terrible.” I said, truly apologetic. “Cops were everywhere.” 

That was true, though thinking back through the haze of being sucked off while driving, I don't recall seeing an actual accident on the road. Once we got past that point, it was smooth sailing. However, that didn't negate the fact that we were pretty late and this small woman looked like she could probably take the both of us. She didn't speak to either of us again except to tell us to go find our seats, the valet would park the truck. 

“She was awful touchy.” Dean whispered to me. 

I slipped my arm through his and smiled. “Whatever. We're here and everything will be just fine.”

He smiled back and we we took our seats among the surprisingly large crowd. The church was gorgeous, even more so after the flowers were added. Dean even squeezed my hand and gave me a proud look once everything was done. It was in that moment that I was thankful for all the help and support he gave me while I fretted over these flowers, especially the last week where I'd barely even seen him. He'd said he had things to do anyway, so it was no problem, but I still felt bad. I'd be sure to make it up to him. 

The ceremony was as gorgeous as the church, and Becky was absolutely stunning in her gown. She gave me a little wink as she walked past us and I beamed a smile at her. She was so happy that it was infectious. Even Dean was glowing. 

Afterward, all guests were given directions to the country club where the reception was being held. Dean and I found our place cards - little golden gears with our table number on them - and got to our seat. Dean immediately made his way to the open bar and got us two glasses of champagne. 

“Are you having fun?” I asked him when he sat down. 

“Yeah, I am.” He answered and nudged my shoulder. “I like being a plus one.”

Our table filled up pretty quickly - mostly people I didn't recognize - and a friendly chatter began. Dean was amazing with people, most taking to his charm quickly. He'd managed to strike up a conversation with the older woman on the other side of him about some obscure conspiracy theory television show they'd apparently both seen. I didn't really pay much attention. 

Becky and her new husband Finn entered, dinner was served, and the conversations seemed to shift to a more sedate pace. That is until I overheard two women talking about the traffic on the highway. 

“Can you believe what happened?” One said to the other. “They found another one of those bodies on the road.”

My ears perked up. I knew I didn't remember seeing a car crash. They must have been casing the area for evidence.

“It's a shame.” Said the other. “Those poor people didn't deserve to die like that.”

A hand on my shoulder drew my attention away and Becky was smiling down at me. I immediately hugged her and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “Such an amazing wedding, Becks! Absolutely gorgeous.”

She smiled brightly at me. “Thanks, Seth! But speaking of gorgeous...who is this handsome man of yours?”

Dean is smiling at her and offers her his hand. She immediately bats it away and pulls him into a tight hug. He looks at me a little confused, which I find absolutely adorable. “Becky, this is Dean.”

“So glad to meet’cha Deano!” She says after she breaks the hold on him. “You take care of my Sethie, Ok?”

Dean smiles at me and I feel my heart swell. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good!”

She's pulled away rather quickly and Dean cocks an eyebrow at me. “Sethie?”

“She's called me that since we were in school.”

“Guess who else is going to call you that?” He says with a smirk. 

I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him toward the coat closet. “Let see how many times I can make you say that name.”


	4. Chapter 4

Months can pass by pretty damn quickly when you're happy. It's like living in the haze of a perfect life where everything comes together to make the world just that much brighter to be a part of. For me, that bright spot was Dean. We've been going strong since the wedding, if not stronger. Also, in case you're wondering, he did get lucky in the coat room. My flower shop has been steadily increasing in popularity to the point where I was featured in the newspaper as a ‘blooming wonderful addition to the town’. Silly play on words, but I'd take it. Again, that was thanks to Dean sending business my way. Sure my clientele was still primarily funerals, but I was starting to get some of them just coming in for smaller things too. All in all, things were going great!

“You look happy today.” Dean says as he saunters into my shop with that confident swagger that always got me a little breathless. “What's the occasion?”

I smile, big and bright, just so happy to have this man in my life. “Oh, you know...you.”

“Me? What did I do?” he asks and leans his elbows on the counter, chin propped on his hands. Its adorable. “I’ll do it every day if it means I can see that smile on your face.”

I answer him with a kiss. “You're just you.”

“Ugh, gag me.” I hear over Dean's shoulder and peer at the man standing there. I'd never seen him before, at least not that I could remember. He's tall, maybe a little shorter than Dean, stocky build and an attitude that just screams annoyed. I didn't like him, he didn't seem nice. “You two realize this is a place of business, not some flophouse bar to make out in, right?”

That smile on Dean's face falls and I'm disappointed to see it go. He rounds on the stranger, getting right in his face, noses practically touching. “Excuse me?” He growls, low and dangerous like I had never heard. It was actually kind of jarring and I suddenly felt bad for the other man, but, to his credit, he didn't back down. In fact, he smirks right in Dean's face.

“Would you like me to repeat it? Maybe I can use simpler words so you can understand.”

“What's your problem, man?” 

The guy smirks. “No problem...none at all. I'm just here to buy some flowers. You're the one in my face.”

“Dean.” I say lightly, hopefully getting him to move away. He doesn't at first, he's clenching his fists at his side shifting from foot to foot like one wrong twitch of this guys eyebrow and he'd pounce. I didn't like it, didn't like this version of him. I'd never seen dean angry, if that's what this even was. All I knew is that is it extremely unnerving. Eventually he does take a step back but hangs close. 

I put on an appeasing smile, hopefully one that would get this guy to give me his order and go before someone does something they'd regret. “What can I help you with?”

He sniffs a dismissing laugh at Dean and I hear him growl low in his throat in response. He doesn't say another word to him, turns his attention to me. “I'm having an event in a few days, a banquet reception for my job. I need centerpieces...but nothing frilly or over the top. I was told to come talk to you, I didn't expect to be harassed by your guard dog over there.”

Dean takes a step forward and I get my hand out just in time to pull him back. “I'm sorry about him.” I reach under the and pull out a form and some books for him to look through. “Please look through the catalog and fill out the form and I'll gladly help you with whatever you need. I'll give you a few minutes. Dean, can I talk to you?”

Again the guy smirks at Dean as I pull him into the back room and close the door. “What the hell was that?!”

“What was what?” He has the audacity to look like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. 

“That! You looked like you were gonna up and murder him in the center of my store!”

“I wasn't going to murder him. If I was going to, I sure as hell wouldn't do it here. The guy is a jerk! I may have _punched_ him in the middle of your store.”

“Well, don't! Just stay back here and let me finish his order.” I snap at him. “Calm down, okay? I'll be back.”

He sighs, rolls his eyes at me. “Fine. Go.”

I open my mouth to say something more about his attitude, but settle for frowning at him and going to help the customer. Sure, the guy continued to be a royal ass, but I got the order out of him. “Thank you. Should I call you when they are ready?”

“Yeah. My names Kevin, Kevin Owens. Info is on the form if you had bothered to look.” 

I apologized to him and sent him on his (not so) merry way. He leaves my store in a huff, but at least he's gone. 

Dean waits a good minute before stepping out of the back room. “What a douchebag.” He says and I agree with a head nod. He pulls the order form from my hand and looks it over. “Kevin, huh? Needed to put a name to a jerk that big.” 

“Yeah, well, he's gone.” I say and snatch it out of his hand. “I think you should go too.”

He looks confused. “But we had a lunch date.”

“I'm not hungry.” I really just want him to go and cook off, and I also need to calm down myself. For once, Dean has actually gotten on my nerves. “Go without me.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No...yes...a little. Just, give me a few hours, okay?”

He frowns at me and I almost cave. “Fine.”

He walks out the door without another word. 

He does give me a few hours. In fact, I didn't see or hear from dean until very late that night. He knocked on my door around 2am looking tired. Quite frankly, I probably should have just ignored him and stayed sleeping. “Dean?”

“I missed you.”

“It's two in the morning.”

“I know...sorry.”

I step aside for him to come into the apartment and he does. He smells like cigarettes, not something I'm used to. “Where have you been?” 

“Out. Went to a bar, had a few with Roman.” He smiles at me. “I didn't want to go home. You're so beautiful.”

I probably look like a hot mess right now, but hey, he knows how to make me smile. To be honest, I missed him too. Wrapping my arms around him and laying my head on his chest when I hug him feels like home, even if he does smell like tobacco...and something else. Bleach? “Come to bed.”

“With you? Always.”

\---

The next morning came too soon, the sun peering in through the curtains enough to wake me. Dean lay next to me on his stomach, naked, because we didn't go right to sleep after he showed up at my door at 2am. I could lay here with him all day, but the shop won't run itself and I begrudgingly pull myself out from underneath the warm covers and pull on my pajama bottoms. 

Coffee. I need coffee. 

There's nothing like that first sip of the beautiful elixir first thing in the morning to get you up and ready for the day. As with my normal routine, I turn the tv on to listen to the news while I get ready. Usually I don't pay that close attention, but something had my ears perking up mid shave.

_‘The victim has been identified as local business owner Kevin Owens. Police are certain he is one more in a string of murders that have been terrorizing the area for months now.’_

“What the hell?” I turn up the volume just as the police chief comes to the podium for an impromptu press conference. 

_‘We believe this is the work of a serial killer. However, there is no rhyme or reason as to why or how the victims are chosen, only that the method of death is consistent. We are implementing a mandatory curfew in effect immediately. Anyone with any information is asked to contact the authorities immediately.’_

I moved to this town in hopes of living a quiet existence.

There goes that.


End file.
